


Hold

by orphan_account



Series: You attack my heart! [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cupids, Except not really?, M/M, Park Seonghwa-centric, Soul Bond, Soulmates, bro I don’t know how to tag this au, its kind of like that, there’s no real soulmate thing but there is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Seonghwa is sick and tired of this “wait for it” and “be patient” love culture. He knows what— or rather who— he’s been wanting.So, although it’s against the system’s rules, he’s going to play his own Cupid.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: You attack my heart! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689706
Comments: 18
Kudos: 229





	Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I honestly had such a hard time tagging this fic because this au is like...weird asl LOL I was just ???? the entire time. 
> 
> I kinda wanna turn this into its own world and make longer, better fics for the universe (and of course do all the spin offs) but only if you all deem it interesting enough to do so :) 
> 
> Regardless, happy hwa day! I hope my baby takes this as a gift in spirit ❤️ Tell seonghwa you love him!! And support ATEEZ!!
> 
> I love you all so much, and I hope this brings you some joy. Stay happy, healthy and safe ^^
> 
> (Title taken from ‘Hold’ by Winner, which I seriously recommend! Cute song)
> 
> -much love, nana

It works like this:

Everyone is assigned a Cupid at birth; _everyone._ Cupid is usually an invisible force, (sometimes a non-human entity or a concept, sometimes just a person with wings like in the tales, sometimes even _just_ a person) that comes into your life at a designated time to aid or guide you to capturing the love of your life. Simple enough, really. 

But the thing that Seonghwa hates is the waiting. The sitting in your seat, hands still at your sides, and forced to watch a game you can never join in and play. It’s like waiting for someone to call you so you can jump in, but until then you’re just expected to be patient.

And he’s patient. Perhaps the most patient of his friends and family. He’s polite and well-mannered, he’s gentle and cautious. He’s exactly the type of person who’d go easily with the system and understand it fully since it needs people like him. 

But of all the people he’s ever met, he seems to be the only one with a problem. Seonghwa hates the system with a passion, and that’s never going to change. Cupid be damned, Seonghwa is in love and the universe is doing absolutely nothing to help him. 

“Consider this: they’re not your one true sweetheart,” San says with a mouthful of food. It’s shoved to a corner so that he doesn’t spatter it all over the place when he opens his mouth, but it puffs up his cheek in a way that can’t be taken seriously. 

“I don’t know who decides that,” Seonghwa says blandly, “but I know I love them. Isn’t that enough?” 

Yunho, sitting at the end of their cafeteria table, hums as he reaches over and steals a cookie. 

“Could be,” he says thoughtfully. “But what if you fall out of love? Or they don’t love you back? What’ll you do then?” His phone pings and he’s quick to pick it up, round eyes gently softening. He looks so sweet. 

“You say that, but you’re doing just fine with Mingi,” Seonghwa says, unamused. Yunho looks at him with red cheeks and even redder ears and San giggles, patting their tall friend on the back.

“Love is untamable,” Seonghwa continues. “But I know that I’m in love, and I know I want to pursue it.”

“Technically that’s just a crush. Pursuing love in this day and age without a Cupid? Sounds questionable.” San sips from his cup, somehow having swallowed all of the food in his mouth in one go. Seonghwa doesn’t question it.

“Is it really?” Yunho and San stare at their friend in surprise, watching his shoulders square and his posture go rigid. He’s getting defensive, bristling like a cat.

(Or like a dragon, something about him is very....reptile-like.) 

“We’re not saying you can’t, or that you shouldn’t,” San says cautiously. “We just think it’s...a strange idea.” 

“Strange or not, I’m gonna at least try.” 

And then Seonghwa’s alarm starts up to remind him it’s the end of his lunch hour, and he’s got to get back to whatever lecture comes next. He bids Yunho and San a farewell fairly quickly, to which the others respond with resigned waves and amused sighs. 

Seonghwa is always a little out of place, anyways. 

Seonghwa fell in love with Hongjoong at the beginning of their first year in college. 

It was so...uncharacteristic of him. To see a boy with so many piercings and bright red hair, looking like the epitome of “I’m uncontrollable” and think— _yes, I want to spend the rest of my life tied to him._ Seonghwa even expected himself to react with shock at the sight of the boy, but he didn’t. He went home that night stunned both by the boy’s undeniable beauty, and his own reaction. Even if Seonghwa found him attractive _once,_ at the beginning of the year during a school-organized get-together, he’d thought surely it’d fade away and he’d forget all about him.

But he didn’t. He never has.

Something was magnetic when they finally talked to each other the first time. Their banter, their ebb and flow, fell together so easily. Hongjoong laughed in all the right places and it was such a beautiful sound. Seonghwa smiled at all the silliest times and Hongjoong opened like a flower blooming, excited and intrigued by the other’s behavior. They exchanged numbers and planned hangouts, and oftentimes, they were two peas in a pod. Seonghwa and his gentle, hesitant nature. Hongjoong and his fiery, never ending passion. Even though Hongjoong was younger he led with fury, and despite being broader in size and stature, Seonghwa was always willing to let himself be pulled into the other’s natural tide.

Seonghwa can hardly get enough of it. And even as three years have passed he still stares at Hongjoong and thinks— _yes, I want to spend the rest of my life tied to him._

And Hongjoong will stare back, hair now a beautiful silver bordering on white, and Seonghwa swears he can almost hear the same words drawing themselves to him. 

“Wanna get coffee?” Hongjoong, sitting cross-legged in his chair in a way that pains Seonghwa to so much as look at, gives him a cheeky smile. Seonghwa doesn’t know what it means, but he also finds he doesn’t care too much. Hongjoong could drag him to a back alley and he’d follow willingly, smitten and oh so naive. Hongjoong could probably steal all of his money and he’d shake his head with a chuckle. But the best part is he knows Hongjoong would never do anything like that.

Years together have told him one thing: Hongjoong is unpredictable, yes, but he is to be trusted. He is loyal. He is a safe place. 

So as much as Hongjoong smirks at him with strange glints in his eyes, and as much as he seems like he lives life on the thin line of a tightrope, if Seonghwa pulled back for even a second he knows Hongjoong wouldn’t push. 

“Lead the way,” Seonghwa says happily. Hongjoong’s cheekiness takes a backseat to a warm grin that makes the elder’s heart stutter. 

“You’ll die from too much caffeine one of these days, you know.” Seonghwa sighs as Hongjoong swallows the last bit of black residue in the cup, licking his lips in clear delight. 

“Relax, mom. I can handle my intake just fine,” he snorts back, a painted fingernail wiping at the edge of his mouth. Seonghwa’s grown accustomed to so many small and minute things about Hongjoong. Like the way his pinky color changes each week, and the way his lips are always tinted even up to the corners with a red lip stain. It’s those tiny things that Seonghwa adores as much as the rest of him. 

How Cupid could even think of someone better for him, he doesn’t know. 

“Hey, Joong?” He’s picking at his nails beneath his sleeves, leaving his cup stationary on the table. It’s a nervous habit, one he developed in high school and never grew out of. He doesn’t know what he’s planning on saying but when he finally looks up and stares at Hongjoong, _really_ looks at him, he goes partially dumb. 

“Yeah?” 

Sometimes the fire in Hongjoong dies down a bit to morph into a warm glow. In all the places where he’s harsh ambition and relentlessness, he turns soft and attentive. It’s rare to see but when Seonghwa gets the chance to glance at it and see it seeping from the gaps, he can’t help but feel like he’s not the only one nervous.

Maybe, Hongjoong is just as struck dumb as he is by the electric charge between them. Maybe he waxes poetic somewhere deep down about Seonghwa the way he does for him. Maybe he spends nights cursing out Cupid only to clasp his hands together and pray for it, too. 

“Hwa?” 

_ Right, fuck.  _

“Um...I just thought maybe-“ _maybe you want to go out with me? Maybe you’d like to see a movie with me? Maybe you’d like to share a kiss with me under the moonlight and we can be way too cheesy for our own good?_

“Maybe I should dye my hair. What do you think?” 

_ No! What? How the hell did I even-  _

“I think it’d be a good idea,” Hongjoong says, amused. And he’s lifting a delicate yet calloused hand to rest his chin on. He looks at Seonghwa like he knows a secret, like he’s figured something out, and Seonghwa can only plead to the universe that Hongjoong can’t somehow strip him down to his thoughts and pick those apart. 

“What color, though?” Hongjoong’s hand fiddles with his empty cup and Seonghwa wants to ram his head on the table and then fall into a hole in the ground. They’re about to have a conversation about his hair color, which, although it’s just as black as it’s been since birth, he hadn’t wanted to bring up changing right now. 

“Blonde, I guess.” Seonghwa says, and the hesitance in his voice could easily be read as nervousness for wanting such a drastic change, but he wishes it’d come across as what it actually is. Self-disappointment, shame, humiliation, _why am I such an idiot?_

“I think it’d be beautiful,” Hongjoong mutters honestly. His face is tinged red and Seonghwa’s taken aback momentarily by the sudden display of bashfulness. It’s not like Hongjoong is incapable of it, but he’s typically so confident that Seonghwa has to dig deeper than the surface to find his intricacies. 

And yet he’s in front of Seonghwa now, cheeks red, and calling Seonghwa beautiful. 

(Well, maybe it’s just his hair color he’s saying that about, but he’ll take what he can get.) 

“Help me dye it, then?” He finds himself saying quickly, almost stuttering and tripping over it. Hongjoong looks up at him with his sweetly widened eyes and he smiles, nodding and responding with a giggle. 

Seonghwa’s no Cupid, but he’s getting there just fine without one. 

They actually do dye Seonghwa’s hair, despite that not really being something the taller was thinking of. It comes out somewhat dark and layered with tones of other colors, but it’s beautiful. Seonghwa finds himself gently pushing through the strands and smiling at himself in the mirror. He’s never done something so out of the norm before. 

How funny, that it was Hongjoong who helped him take that leap. 

“It’s just as beautiful as I’d expected,” Hongjoong says from behind him, pleased. The full body mirror in Seonghwa’s bedroom gives them enough room for him to see the shorter boy next to him, silver hair fluffed up and looking so soft. The entirety of him looks soft right now, really. Fiery Hongjoong’s gone somewhere else for now and in exchange, the ever sweet and sleepy looking Hongjoong’s come out to play. There are many sides to him, as oddly multi-sided as he is, that Seonghwa loves to explore. All the same boy, but a million sides shining and dazzling like the many parts of a stained window. “But maybe that’s just because it’s on you.” 

And Cupid is so hard on Seonghwa’s heart. Choking up his words and not letting him respond, making him laugh in an uncomfortable way. Hongjoong draws back, probably to leave, and Cupid just makes Seonghwa stand there and watch. 

They bid sweet farewells that are kind, gentle. Hongjoong gives him another one of those knowing looks, like he’s waiting on Seonghwa for something. Like he’s showing an understanding for something Seonghwa has yet to accomplish. 

He gently intertwines their fingers and presses his nose to Seonghwa’s neck when they hug, and Cupid doesn’t even allow Seonghwa to breathe. 

Hongjoong waves goodbye, and Seonghwa fights the tears in his eyes to at least wave back. 

“I want to find out what my Cupid is.” 

Understandably, San chokes. He chokes furiously and loudly and in the next moment Yunho is slamming a large palm between his shoulder blades. San eventually coughs up enough air to start breathing again, and Seonghwa watches the entire thing with both embarrassment and worry. 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Yunho says. But he smiles anyway and leans forward, an intrigued air around his grin. San, on the other hand, nods his head with resolution. 

“There’s no way you can do that, and I’m not about to let you waste your life away searching for it, either. Just be patient, eh?” 

“I have been,” Seonghwa groans, “I’ve been patient for almost four years now and where has it gotten me? I’m tired of being patient; I’ve lived my whole life doing that! Don’t you think it’s time I take something for myself?” 

San blinks at him, shock written all over his face. Yunho’s grin remains in place but his eyes start to glow, and what was intrigue before looks a lot more like enjoyment now. 

“I say do it,” Yunho shrugs. “Happiness is yours for the taking, right? If finding your Cupid helps you sort this out, then I’ll support you! I’m sure Mingi does too, in spirit.” 

“This is...” San sighs, flopping his head down onto the table. “Maybe it’s Wooyoung rubbing off on me, but fine. That was way too inspiring for me to continue playing opposer.” 

“Admit it, you have a flair for the dramatic.” Seonghwa says, laughing. “You wouldn’t be dating Wooyoung if you didn’t.” 

“That, and his Cupid is theater.” Yunho cackles. “He was born to love drama.” 

“You both are enough drama for me, whipped asses.” San says, but he’s smiling with happiness. 

Okay, so maybe they’re all a little out of place. 

“Finding Cupid, hm? Never heard of that.” Yeosang— who is, somehow, Wooyoung’s best friend— works at the library, and reasonably, also has an extensive knowledge of their catalog. It’s almost ridiculous how he can find a book within a couple minutes if someone so much as asks. 

“But I think we’ve got quite a few books on the lore and such.” Yeosang pushes a cart through one of the aisles and Seonghwa trails behind him, following quietly. Yeosang was always one of his favorite people to be around, despite how harsh the other can come off as. He’s really quite patient, and unexpectedly protective. It helps some that he’s been dating one of the strongest freshmen Seonghwa has ever met since they were in middle school, and whoever Yeosang cares for, his boyfriend does too. 

“There’s two or three here,” The other points to some old books wedged in between considerably newer looking ones. “Been around since I started working here, so I’d say they’ve got at least enough value to not be replaced with how worn out these copies are.”

“Mind if I check them out?” Seonghwa pulls them out gingerly, stacking them in his arms and realizing belatedly how much each one weighs. They’re sizeable books. 

“Not at all,” Yeosang waves him off. “Hope you find what you’re looking for.” 

“I hope so too,” Seonghwa says softly. Yeosang gives him an understanding smile. 

There’s a lot in the books about where Cupid’s came from, what they do, why they are what they are. It’s all well and good information, but Seonghwa’s looking for more. He skips through each book and peels through pages, agitation growing under his skin but never enough to take him away from it altogether. He has to find his Cupid, and he has to either: a) beat its ass for not letting him love Hongjoong like he wants to or b) compromise with it so he can finally take the action he wants. 

He sighs, another page fluttering in the soft air of his fan and moving gently from one way to the other. He’s lying flat on his stomach on the floor, books sprawled out everywhere and ground covered in notes he’s taken in hopes of piecing together more information. 

He rests his head in his arms and reads, with a half sleeping brain, the start of another paragraph. His eyes drift open and closed repeatedly and eventually, the tendrils of sleep wrap around his arms and legs until he’s being dragged into slumber. 

_“Seonghwa, hwa. Hwa! Park Seonghwa!”_ Someone calls to him, and he startles, shooting up in his bed and looking for the source of the voice. 

His bed...no, he doesn’t recognize the bed he’s sleeping in. He doesn’t even recognize his pajamas. 

“What?” He calls back, voice scratchy from the rest. He stretches and listens to his bones crackle from the pull, groaning in both appreciation and pain. 

“I told you to come down for breakfast!” The voice filters through the air, through the door, getting closer and surrounding Seonghwa’s head. 

And then he recognizes it. 

“Joong-ah, cut me some slack. I’m tired,” Seonghwa groans back, flopping down into the pillows. It’s like his body is working on autopilot, like he knows exactly how much to push and pull, because he’s doing it without much thought. 

“Hwa, if you don’t get your ass up in time for work I promise you—“ the door opens and Seonghwa looks up, breath hitching in his throat as he stares. 

Hongjoong is, admittedly, still himself. He’s still got all his piercings in and his hair is still fluffy, but now it’s not a cherry red or a sterling silver. It’s more close to brown, if anything. Darker, maybe even a navy blue. He’s also wearing an oversized shirt that exposes his collar bone, and there’s a tattoo there that Seonghwa knows wasn’t there before. Something about his face and his stature makes Seonghwa think he’s older. Older than they were before, anyhow. 

“Hi,” he squeaks out, still caught up in the air of Hongjoong’s existence and how much it affects him. 

The other’s slightly irritated expression turns soft, and he walks over just to climb on top of Seonghwa and flop down onto his chest. 

“Hi there, baby. Can you please get up so I can eat breakfast with my husband normally and _not_ watch you choke on toast as you try to get your shoes on?” Hongjoong noses at Seonghwa’s own collar bone, which prompts him to look down as much as he possibly can and he swears he catches the sight of a mark on himself. Like a tattoo.

Like a _matching_ tattoo.

His throat dries up at the thought.

“Sorry, I’m just...really tired,” Seonghwa says softly. He feels like it’s right, when he wraps his arms around Hongjoong and presses a soft kiss into his hair. “You know I’m gonna take time off to enjoy you over the weekend. Just be patient, okay?” 

“Ew,” Hongjoong says, rolling off of him and at his side, so can throw a leg over Seonghwa’s stomach and use his arm as a pillow. The elder just lets him, chuckling. 

“Don’t talk to me about patience, Mr. “I wanted to talk to you so bad but my Cupid wouldn’t let me”. Your impatience is what got us here, remember?“

Seonghwa groans despite his own inner curiosity. _My impatience got us here? What?_

“Don’t remind me, I was such an idiot back in college,” he places a hand over his face, shaking his head. 

Hongjoong laughs.

“Imagine blaming your Cupid for everything, only to find out-“

“Seonghwa!” San kicks at Seonghwa’s side, causing the man to groan as he shoots up from the pain. His floor is still just as hard, and the air from the fan is blowing all the same, telling him he’s back in his own room. 

And in the present, not just a fantasy. 

“Idiot, we thought you died,” San says with teary eyes. It makes Seonghwa feel awful, for one. But it also makes him feel confused. 

“Did I not wake up or something?” He asks, groggy and disoriented. It’s only then that he even sees Yunho standing by the door, staring at him like he’d just seen a dead man walking. 

“You were out cold,” the tall boy says. “For almost an hour.” 

“An hour?!” He glances at his window, seeing the shining stars outside aligning in the night sky instead of the soft sunset. He’s been asleep for hours, on his floor. 

And dreaming of Hongjoong, no less. 

“I don’t know what kind of shit you did,” San breathes out, “but do it again and I’ll make Jongho kick your ass.” 

Seonghwa shudders at the mention of the freshman’s name. “Noted.” 

Things go back to normal for the most part. Not that they were ever truly abnormal to begin with, but Seonghwa had felt an odd shift in his life that day. He and Hongjoong still talk just as much, but it gets a little harder as time goes on and Seonghwa just becomes frustrated with himself. 

He thinks back to what dream Hongjoong said from time to time, about his impatience getting them there. He wonders, deep down, if his wishful dream could ever become a premonition. 

“Hwa,” Hongjoong says softly. He’s laying on Seonghwa’s bed like it’s his own and there’s that kitty-like smile on his face again. A hand reaches into the air and beckons with no actual force. Seonghwa goes to it like it’s a command anyways. He sits on the side of the bed and just stares at Hongjoong, admiring his beautiful figure under the guise of paying attention.

“I keep feeling like you have something to tell me,” Hongjoong says thoughtfully. There it is again, that knowing look. That little notion that Hongjoong understands and has picked Seonghwa down to his very last bone without the elder even knowing it. 

“I would tell you,” Seonghwa snorts. “Believe me, I would.” 

_ If I could, I would tell you.  _

“I know,” Hongjoong says happily. Seonghwa lays down in the bed beside Hongjoong and cushions his head on his arm, Hongjoong following suit and mirroring the position. They stay like that, looking at one another. 

Hongjoong’s eyes go sad, contemplation marring all the other features, but the evident despair shining in his irises. “I’ll wait,” he mutters. 

“Wait for what?” 

“For you. For as long as it takes.” 

Seonghwa doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s convinced his Cupid won’t let him say it anyways. 

But then again, he doesn’t know if his Cupid even has the ability to grant permission. 

“This might seem an odd suggestion,” Yeosang’s flitting through aisles again, perusing sections and pulling some books out into his cart. “But why not write him a letter or something? You said Cupid always takes your words, right?” 

“Yeah, for some reason I choke up every single time,” he follows him again, eyes sad. Yeosang only glances at him once, twice, before pushing his cart around again. He _is_ on the clock after all. “It’s like my ability to talk just...disappears. Completely gone.” 

“Then don’t outright talk, just show. Write him a letter or even sing him a song or something. Jongho’s Cupid is singing, you know. Not words that are specifically meant for me, or towards me, but just the sound of his humming to let me know he’s there. Direct words aren’t the only way to tell him you love him.” 

Seonghwa hadn’t thought of that at all, for some reason. 

“What if Cupid messes it up for me like it’s been doing for everything else? My Cupid could be the universe and in that case, I’d be screwed.” 

Yeosang turns to him with a glare, which for some reason makes Seonghwa want to shrink in on himself. 

“And what if it’s not? What if nothing would happen? I think the only person sabotaging you is you, right now.” 

_ Imagine blaming your Cupid for everything.  _

Seonghwa feels like puzzle pieces fall and click into place. He doesn’t say anything to Yeosang, but he does quickly say goodbye and duck out of the library.

And his feet find their way to Hongjoong, his body finds its place in Cupid. 

“Hey, Hwa!” Hongjoong calls from the opposite side of the courtyard. Now that Seonghwa’s hair is blonde it must be a lot easier to spot him, he’d rationalized. But then a part of him thinks that it’s Hongjoong who spots him, that it’s Hongjoong seeking and finding Seonghwa. 

That it’s his role as Cupid that helps connect and bind their existences together as one. 

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa runs to him, stopping in front of the smaller man who stares at him catching his breath.

A second, two seconds, three seconds.

“Are you ready to tell me now?” The younger grins, familiar, and Seonghwa smiles back at him just as knowingly. They know what it is now, they don’t have to hold back anymore. 

He doesn’t use his words, but the press of his lips is a fitting response. Its enough to let Hongjoong know that Cupid has finally decided to stop running away, and fall into the arrow of love. 

___

“So you were your own Cupid all along?” San says, eyes widened along with Yunho’s. 

“And Hongjoong’s,” he laughs, nodding. “Apparently I was quite literally the only thing holding us back.” 

“You’re so...” San doesn’t say anything else, laughing in disbelief and shaking his head. He sips on his drink as he sits back in his chair. 

“It makes sense,” Yunho smiles, “you were the sole cause of yours and Hongjoong’s relationship. Everything moved forwards and backwards with you and Hongjoong was always willing to wait, right?” 

Seonghwa bobs his head along in agreement to the words, thinking about all of the signs that pointed to the fact that he was Cupid. How silly of him, to always have taken so many steps back with the excuse of Cupid on his lips. To be the force he blamed...how childish and embarrassing. 

“I’m glad you found one soon enough,” Yunho says happily. “Me and Mingi didn’t find out our Cupids until we were already together.” 

“What are they?” San asks curiously. Seonghwa doesn’t think he’s ever heard their Cupids either.

“Well, mine is luck. His is lying.” 

“What the hell?” San says, quirking an eyebrow and yet giggling. “Those are so weird.” 

“Just be happy you found those out later,” Seonghwa snorts, “I have a pretty good feeling I’m not gonna live this one down.” 

“Why do you think that?” Yunho says.

“For some reason I think...he’s gonna be teasing me about it, probably even when we’re married.” 

And San and Yunho don’t say anything when Seonghwa gives them a knowing look of his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> And if you liked it, consider leaving comments and kudos to let me know yeah? 💘  
> I love hearing from y’all!
> 
> -until we meet again, nana


End file.
